A Time to Mourn, Grieve, and Lament

Feb 23 / Alaine Thomson Buchanan
Lent is traditionally a season when some choose to let go of something significant to them for a while, for the sake of creating a greater sense of our need for God in our lives, as well as spending more time with Jesus. The point is to intentionally prepare ourselves to hear from God and experience God in the waiting for the final week of Jesus's life and the celebration of his resurrection on Easter morning. Lent is an opportunity to place ourselves in a position where our intimacy with God has the opportunity to grow. 

It is a time of letting go…so that we can be filled up.

One thing I love about God is that we can bring our concerns, worries, sorrows, joys, hopes, celebrations, and dreams to Christ. When we are at a loss of how to respond to what is happening in our lives, our communities, our countries and the world at large, mourning, grieving, and lamenting serve as ways in which we can be with what “is” and acknowledge our need for God and each other. If you are currently in a space where life is not going as planned or what you hoped it would be, it might be worth including mourning, grieving, and/or lamenting into this Lenten season. 

On a personal note, mourning, grieving and lamenting became part of my life back in 2015. I was in a space of sensing and believing God abandoned me, and a friend invited me to a church service where they were offering a time of mourning, grieving and lamenting for the victims of the Charleston, SC, church shooting in June of that year. I didn’t grow up in a tradition where mourning, grieving and lamenting were valued, so the experience I had at that church was completely new for me. I watched (and participated) as groanings, tears, aches, moans, songs and prayers were lifted from our physical space into the throne room of God. For the first time in my life, I began to grasp the importance and the necessity of mourning, grieving and lamenting, as an individual and as part of a community, which leads me to this blog post today.

Let’s explore what mourning, grieving and lamenting entail at an incredibly basic level.

Mourning encapsulates a deep anguish. It is a gut-wrenching realization of tremendous loss, including the reality that things are likely never going to be the same. Mourning is felt and experienced in some or all parts of the body, mind, heart, and soul.

Grieving includes emotional pain…and sometimes physical pain, too. It rests deep down in the soul of a person and is a result of, and reaction to, something that has already happened or in anticipation of something that will likely happen. The event or events that prompt grieving are usually beyond a person’s control and often involve the loss of something or someone meaningful. Grief can also stem from a catastrophe or tragedy of some sort. 

Lamenting is a vocal response that oftentimes accompanies mourning and grieving. It verbally addresses something that happened in the past and brings it into the present. It holds the certainty of what one “was” with the uncertainty of what “is.” It acknowledges that something (or a series of somethings) has gone terribly wrong. In some cases, the way we believe God is supposed to act contradicts the reality of what is happening, especially when God seems to be silent, hidden or absent. 

This is where the “Why” questions come into the picture: Why is this happening? Why did this happen? Why is this going to happen? Responses to these questions usually include different types of emotions, including fear, anger, outrage, pain, heartache, sadness, and anguish. 

Lament is honest, gut-wrenching, and unfiltered, and it sits in the space where belief and experience collide.

All three are different, yet they integrate beautifully together. Grieving tends to be more of a constant companion. It lasts long-term. In some cases, it doesn’t ever really truly go away. Lamenting and mourning tend to come and go at different times, and they last for different lengths of time.

All three are embodied experiences.

Since my initial introduction to mourning, grieving, and lamenting, I have noticed a pattern when I offer laments to God. I’m hopeful this pattern might serve as a framework for you to consider how you, too, can lament. Please adapt it to whatever you need for it to be. I am using the words “you” and “your” in this pattern because it can be used both personally and corporately. Remember, this is a raw, unfiltered experience.

  1. Using whatever words you prefer to describe God at this moment, ask for God’s attention to be turned towards you. 
  2. Let God know what is on your heart and mind. What isn’t as it should be?
  3. Ask God to hear and respond.
  4. Express your trust in who you hope God is and what you hope for God to do.

Sometimes, I will write my lament down. Sometimes I will vocalize it. Sometimes, I will let my body express what cannot be expressed in words. Sometimes, it will be a combination of all three. Regardless, when I finish each time of lamenting, there is a glimmer of hope that God sees, is “with” me in some way, and will respond. I hope it does something similar for you.

Alaine Buchanan

Alaine Buchanan is an ordained minister, spiritual director, an active duty Army chaplain's spouse and a mom. She holds a PhD in Second Temple Literature and History and also teaches Biblical Studies (including history, theology and world religions) at both the graduate and undergraduate levels.

Alaine is the Dean of the College of Graduate and Professional Studies and Dean of Digital Education at North Central University in Minneapolis, MN. She has received certification in trauma care through the Allender Center and in Spiritual Direction through the Companioning Center.

In spiritual direction, Alaine loves to walk alongside those who are journeying through liminal spaces. She specializes in discernment, integration healing, focusing, spiritual formation practices and group spiritual direction.

She is a fan of tea, chocolate, and all the Seattle sports teams. She can be found on Facebook, Instagram and LInkedin.